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“It’s not acceptable; simply not acceptable.” Jack Savage’s grievances could be heard in the deserted hallway as he stalked toward the Colonel’s office with his paws shoved in the depths of his pocket. “When did the organizing of this place start to leave this much to be desired?”
Behind him, a certain arctic vixen was tagging along with him, struggling a bit to keep his brisk pace. She listened to his voice, usually so calm and collected, coloring itself with indignation, and a resigned smile couldn’t help but curl her lips as she said: “You’re not exaggerating things just a little? It’ll only be for a few days, you don’t need to…”
Pivoting on the heel of his right foot-paw, Jack turned to her, quick as a gust of wind. “I had specifically asked not to be assigned to any mission without you, for the time being”, the hare asserted, frowning with clear dissatisfaction, “and I absolutely won’t compromise on this matter.”
“Jack…”
“No, it’s a point of principle. I’ve clearly stated to the CEO my intention to not leave your side, given the current situation, and I distinctly remember I had been granted this request, ergo…” Jack went on rambling, exposing the reasons for his protest with the utmost punctuality. Cynthia nodded, repeatedly, secretly flattered by all that eagerness but unable to share it with him ultimately. He would have to leave for four days and, of course, Cynthia knew it would be four long days for both of them, but… how could she, even for a split second, be dissatisfied while looking at his indignation? He was so precious that… “… Cynthia?” The hare stopped in his tracks and watched her as his expression slowly changed from discontent to abashment. “W… what are you doing?”
“Nothing”, she replied, despite the distance between their muzzles having just shortened by a good four inches, “Just listening to your ranting.”
In the face of that question, an electrical discharge seemed to pass through Cynthia Walker. Her ears suddenly perked up, her amber eyes widened and her paw, which had been lazily lying on the desk up until that moment, twitched and hit the pen nearby.
It fell to the ground and rolled to the feet of Jack Savage. At that point, the hare corrected his sentence: “… Chamomile?”
“I…” the fox looked at him, shocked. “You surprised me, Mr. Savage.”
“I didn’t mean to” he replied, dryly. “You had your head resting on the desk, so I thought you had fallen asleep.”
Judging by her foggy eyes, his deduction was probably quite correct. However, if he had got to know her a bit, Cynthia would have never admitted it.
“You caught me in a weak moment.” She immediately played defense, and Jack couldn’t help but sigh because of that predictable reaction.
“It wasn’t supposed to be a criticism, Miss Walker.” … Despite his resignation to her attitude – or, maybe, because of that – the hare left the cup next to the pile of files rising from her desk – otherwise, there was a good chance that she would have refused it. “Drink it, if you want, or simply throw it. Your choice.”
Cynthia stared at him, blankly, and tilted her head. “Why you…?”
But he immediately cut her off. “I’ll leave you to your business. If you need help, give me a call.” With that, Jack Savage gave her a slight nod and proceeded to leave the office. When he reached the door, she called him.
“Jack.” She just pronounced his name, nothing more than that… but somehow, that mere word managed to be more eloquent than any other sentence they had said that day.
Jack turned and smiled at the fox. “You’re welcome” he replied, to save her the effort of saying words she wasn’t used to. “Good work, Cynthia.”
In his mouth, her name had a bittersweet taste.
___________________________________
This is the first story I have ever write on Jack and Cynthia, and the sketch that introduces it is also the first original drawing Rem has made to represent Cynthia. Really, both story and art are so old. The date is August 2, 2016. 20fucking16. It’s hard to believe that we managed to come this far… but we did; today, we’re still here, making what make us happy. Is there something more wonderful? 💖
For the original link of the story on AO3, go here.
For a complete map of all the stories and comics in their temporal sequence, please consult the story’s timeline! 👈
Please remember that this is aoimotion and rem289’s common blog, in which we’ll post all our works made together, past and future!
For more information, check this post: ❣️ AoiRemArt Inauguration
Cynthia closed the drawer of the desk with a thud and dropped against the backrest of her seat. What at the crack of dawn had manifested as a light headache, was now turning in a fully fledged migraine that, she knew, wouldn’t have given her a break until dark.
But Cynthia had no time for headaches whatsoever. “Stella”, she called, a hint of suffering in her voice that the vixen would have rather concealed.
“Yes, ma’am?”, the ferret replied, popping up on her side with a glass of water in her small paws.
Cynthia gave a look at the glass and smiled a bit. “Is my migraine so noticeable?”
“It’s hard to
not
notice, actually. I believe that every mammal on this floor is aware of your discomfort by now, Ms. Walker”, was Stella’s comment, followed by a slight nodding as she proceeded to ask: “Did you already have breakfast?”
“Breakfast…? Ah”. Cynthia averted her eyes instinctively and mumbled: “I ate a cookie a little while ago… I think.”
“You
think
?”
“Ok, maybe I didn’t. But I will, I promise. That is… after taking my medicine.”
“Medicines are meant to be taken in the fed state”, Stella quipped, impassive. “So, if you’re willing to swallow your paracetamol, you’d better eat something first.”
“I’m not hungry right now”, Cynthia said, although she knew that such a trivial excuse couldn’t work on her secretary.
And… it wouldn’t have worked on
him
, too, if he was in Stella’s position.
That thought yielded a vibrant sound inside her ribcage, something between a growl and a yelp. “What is this groan supposed to mean, ma’am?”, the ferret inquired.
In a spur of the moment, the vixen considered the possibility of telling Stella what was going through her mind: ‘
It means that Jack Savage is a damn idiot who raves about things he doesn’t even understand. And I’m dying to pack up, get on the first flight to Zootropolis, find that hare and rip him apart
’.
She thought it… but, unfortunately, that was all she could do. “Work”, she said instead. “The past few days have been quite… tough. But I’ll bounce back”, she promised, trying to give the ferret a positive smile.
Smile that, despite her best efforts, probably looked like an ungracious wince to the ferret, who just gave a little, exasperated sigh. “I’ll bring you a candy bar, and you’ll eat it
all
. Only then you will take your pill” she said, putting the glass of water over Cynthia’s desk.
Before Cynthia could reply, Stella had already headed towards the so-called “Emergency Supply” – which basically was a lockbox containing all sorts of sweets, saved specifically for those occasions when Cynthia needed to eat something, but her stomach had a different opinion on the matter.
Needless to say, only Stella had access to this special supply, to prevent the vixen from assaulting it in the opposite case… that is, when she got the munchies. Which had recently started to happen at an alarming rate. “Stella”, Cynthia called her again.
“Yes?”
“Just… thank you. I don’t know how I’d be if you weren’t here to keep me in line.”
“I’m pretty sure someone else would”, was the ferret’s aseptic reply, as she rummaged in the lockbox.
A light laugh escaped her. “I have my doubts, but thank you for the confidence you placed in my socializing skills.”
“They’re still better than those of a certain someone…”. A sudden touch of animosity crept in Stella’s voice and made Cynthia’s ears slightly rise in curiosity.
“Who do you mean?”, the vixen asked, although those words tasted like unpleasant rhetoric in her mouth.
“I don’t think this question needs an answer. I don’t want to ruin your day even more by naming mammals one can easily refrain from talking about, after all.”
“…”. Indeed, the thought of talking about Jack had already been discharged by Cynthia who, in order to preserve her already faltering mental sanity, would have done better to pretend the hare’s existence was on a par with a quantum phenomena, something that was fair to forget about until proven otherwise. ‘
If I don’t see him, I can safely pretend he doesn’t exist
’. That sort of thing. “I’m obliged to agree with you”, she eventually said, stretching a paw to reach the candy bar Stella was now lending to her. “Thank you, Stella.”
“This is the second time you thank me within three minutes. Are you sure you don’t need a chamomile too, in addition to paracetamol?”
“Ugh, I
hate
chamomile”, Cynthia grumbled, carefully unwrapping the candy bar. “It tastes like nothing. It’s like drinking hot water.
“I wasn’t wondering if chamomile was to your liking, but if it could help you deflate your overblown… passionateness, ma’am.”
“Mh”. Cynthia sniffed the candy bar, then gave it a little nibble, to test the limits of the nausea which was putting knots in her stomach. But when the sweetness of the snack melted in the vixen’s mouth, she felt a sense of relief, as if part of her tension had just slipped away from her body. “Ingesting food or drink I don’t like irritates me”, Cynthia commented, chewing on the bar with a little more enthusiasm.
“Good grief…”. Stella shook her head, exasperated. “Ms. Walker, let me tell you that I find your approach to nutrition really immature for your age.”
In response to such honest – and unexpected – criticism, Cynthia gave the ferret a quite astonished look. “Stella, did you just… call me
childish
, basically?”
“Not you directly, but your way to perceive sustenance.”
“Well…!”, she rumbled, before swallowing up the second – and wider – bite of candy bar, “I have my reasons. Don’t you start too, please.”
Realizing she had probably stepped outside her role of secretary, Stella nodded briefly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother you”, the ferret apologized. Then, she moved to return to her workstation. “However”, she added, “I told you this for your own good, ma’am. A healthy diet could help you with your recurring mood disorders.”
“You just sounded so like Jack…”. The sentence left Cynthia’s lips before her self-control could seize it, smack it and finally lock it up in the same dump it had squeezed out from without her consent.
She’d have gladly bitten her tongue… but Stella’s glare hit her before she could find the time to do as much. “
Jack
?”, she hissed. “Did you perhaps compared me with Mr. Savage, ma’am?”. The apparent calm in her voice was filled with wrath as much as Cynthia’s stomach was now filled with gastroesophageal reflux.
The vixen gulped, with the glaze of her snack suddenly feeling like glue inside her mouth. “Wouldn’t… dream of it”, she mumbled, before coughing to unclog her throat. “I was just saying. I could never compare you with J—
Savage
.”
Stella’s eyebrows had just took the form of a gliding eagle. “You’re doing it again.”
“That’s not true! … I mean,
what
was I doing again?”
“You know what, ma’am.”
“No, no, I really don’t know.”
“You’re
lying
.”
Cynthia crossed her arms over her chest and raised her muzzle, trying to take a leading position in the debate. “This is a serious charge, Ms. Rogers. Do you have any supporting evidence of your claim?”
“… Everything about your behavior is an evidence, I’m afraid”. Pity and resignation could be glimpse in Stella’s eyes, but Cynthia wasn’t even sure those new emotions were better than the killing aura that had passed over her face like a eerie shadow just a few seconds ago. “If I may be so bold, ma’am… you should definitely put
that mammal
out of your head. For your own sake.”
“Wha—?!”. Her exclamation had the same musicality of a rusted hinge, even the same taste of iron and dirt. “I… I don’t know what you mean, Stella.”
“Do you?”, she quipped.
“I do. I mean, I don’t!”. She was getting so flustered – and what was worst, she didn’t even know why – her head felt like it was about to explode. “Anyway, I believe it’s nothing that concerns you. I can perfectly handle myself.”
“I wonder… if it’s true”. This time, Cynthia sensed a hint of sadness in her voice. “I admit that I’m feeling a little worry about you. When it comes to him, you always look like you’re about to have a mental breakthrough.”
It was curious how they had actually ended up talking about Jack Savage – which was something they both agreed to
not
do – but secretly doing their best to avoid calling him by his name during the conversation. It almost made her laugh in suffering. “It’s because I can’t stand him, but I have to”, she sighed. “He’s so dense, selfish and stubborn. Unpredictable… and obscure. Sometimes I really want to…”.
And then… those cursed words were echoing inside her aching head, again and again: ‘
You know, Walker, I think I really like you
’.
‘
No, you don’t
’
,
she silently argued.
‘You probably have no idea what it really means to like someone. You call me, ask for advice, try to guess trivia about me, and then… why are you like this?
’
“Ms. Walker?”
Cynthia came back to her senses abruptly enough to have her head spinning. “W-what is it?”
The ferret was looking at her with rather concerned eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Of course”, she lied. “Now, please, get back to work.”
“But, you just… became silent all sudden”. It was clear that Stella was doing her best to not push Cynthia more than she had already done. Indeed, right after that she murmured: “No… nevermind. I’ll get back to work, as you asked”. Stella made a little nod, averting the vixen’s eyes. “… I apologize for my importunity, ma’am.”
Cynthia shrugged. “It’s okay. I also apologize for making you worry about my condition”. She casually glanced at the clock on the wall… and made a considerable effort to keep her unpleasant groan confined in her chest. “Stella… would you mind confirming me that I have an appointment with Colonel Kohle in fifteen minutes?”
“That’s right”, said the ferret. “You remembered on your own, this time. What a rare event.”
‘
Unfortunately, it seems I’ve a tendency to remember the most unpleasant things
’. “It’s all thanks to the candy bar you made me eat”, Cynthia smiled. “Maybe I should start having breakfast regularly, after all.”
“Even so, you still haven’t took your medicine, Ms. Walker”. Stella pointed to the tiny, white capsule of paracetamol on her desk, next to the – still untouched – glass of water. “The candy bar wasn’t enough, I gather.”
“Oh…”. This time, the vixen couldn’t help but manifest her fatigue with a deep, tired sigh. “… Jesus Christ.”
“I hardly believe He’s listening, ma’am.”
“Oh, you bet He isn’t”. Cynthia chuckled as she picked the pill and finally swallowed it with a single sip of water. “He probably has other businesses to take care of. And now”, she continued, getting up from her chair, “I’ll proceed to take care of mine.”
“Please don’t push yourself more than is necessary, Ms. Walker. Otherwise, I expect your head to explode without prior warning.”
“Oh, it’d be awful to have my head exploding before that of a certain mammal. I must prevent it from happening”. Cynthia massaged her eyebrows, mentally preparing herself to her meeting with Gregory. It wasn’t gonna be easy, and the vixen was perfectly aware of this fact; still, she had to do everything she could to continue her investigation. By then, it had became a matter of principle. “Oh, yes”, she said when she reached the door, “care to have lunch together later, Stella?”
“I wouldn’t mind”, Stella replied. “That is, if you’re not planning to make me eat chips and candies.”
“Hey, I don’t—! It just happens once in a week.”
“I’m pretty sure there were seven days in a week, the last time I checked.”
“Stella!”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You…”. Cynthia shook her head, concealing ad amused smile which wouldn’t have been appropriate in that context. “I’ll take you in a nice place for lunch, and then you’ll apologize for your sarcasm, my little ferret.”
“Okay”, she simply said. “See you later, then.”
“Right. See you later”. Cynthia exited her office, still trying to gather her resolution – which was being undermined by her rough migraine – as the thought of confronting Gregory started to build a subtle nervousness in her.
But Cynthia would’ve gotten to the bottom of that story, once and for all.
___________________________________
if you’re wondering where the first sentence of the story comes from (“You know, Walker, I think I really like you”), it’s because you didn’t read Exhausting phonecall – which would be a huge shame, actually.
I think this is the first time I show you a consistent interaction between Cynthia and Stella, her secretary. It also is the first time I make Rem draw such a smiling Cycy! She’s cute, isn’t she? ❤ This story is settled right after Episode 7 of BJ and hints to something going on that will be very important in the sequel.
Anyway, infodump aside, I want to thank you for your support, because it’s your encouragement that makes me want to write more and more, even if English is not my native language – I think you can feel it in my stories. Really, I’m so grateful to all of you. See you tomorrow with, hopefully, a 💕 S. Valentine 💕 art!
For the original link of the story on AO3, go here.
Please remember that this is aoimotion and rem289’s common blog, in which we’ll post all our works made together, past and future!
For more information, check this post: ❣️ AoiRemArt Inauguration
She was aware of this fact; yet, she couldn’t bring herself to talk to him. She didn’t dare. He was… close and distant at the same time, almost unreachable. Words that begged to be voiced always ended up lingering inside her mind, where no one could hear them.
It didn’t feel particularly great.
“You are…” A voice spoke behind her back.
Cynthia turned and saw a male wolf. He looked a bit confused, as if he was trying to figure out who she was. “Oh, good morning” Cynthia said, and showed him the pass Gregory had given to her. As soon as she did it, the wolf’s eyes widened.
“I didn’t recognize you, Miss Walker. I’m sorry.” The wolf bowed, putting Cynthia at unease.
“No need to bow your head” Cynthia quietly replied. “I’m just a visitor.”
“But aren’t you Kohle’s…”
“Please” she insisted, “don’t worry about me.”
The wolf gave her a perplexed look for a second. “I’ll be going, then. Tell me if you need something” he said, and then left.
At the same time, Jack Savage stopped his practice and greeted her from the shooting range. “Hi there, Miss Walker.”
Cynthia froze. ‘He’s talking to me!’ she thought, in panic. “H-Hi” she muttered. “I’m sorry I distracted you, Mr. Savage.”
“No problem, I had almost finished.” The hare exited the fenced area and removed his ear protection. “What brought you here? Do you have a message from Kohle?”
“Er…” Did she have a message from Gregory? No, she didn’t. So, there was no reason for her to loiter in that place… but she couldn’t simply say something like that. “Yes” she improvised, “he said he wanted to… have some tea with you.” ‘I’m such a moron.’
Silence. Jack frowned, clearly confused. “Tea…?”
“A-and talk!” she added. “About… something important, if I remember correctly.”
“Oh.” Jack tilted his head. He had such a small head. “Okay, when?”
“One of these days. He’ll eventually tell you the details, so, hum… b-be ready.” Cynthia looked down, flustered because of her own stupidity. Her eyes accidentally fell upon the gun Jack was still holding in his paw. “… Nice weapon”.
She realized one second later she had said it loud.
However, Jack seemed positively surprised. “Do you think so?” he asked, shrugging. “To be honest, I don’t think it really suits me.”
“I think it suits you!” Cynthia claimed. “I think… you and the gun make a nice couple.” ‘Good grief, Cynthia, just stop talking—’
Just then, Jack sniggered. “Well, thank you, Miss Walker. Assuming it was a compliment, that is.”
Cynthia felt incredibly stupid and wanted to escape, but it seemed like her back legs were glued to the ground. So, she had no choice but keep talking. “What model is it?” she asked.
“The gun? It’s a Tokarev TT-30” Jack replied.
“It looks heavy.”
“It is, indeed.” Jack handed the gun to her. “Want to try?”
She hesitated. Cynthia had never handled a gun; she didn’t even know how to hold it. And yet, she took the weapon with concealed excitement.
It was heavy, but not too much. And, more importantly… it made her feel like she was powerful. Cynthia raised the gun and pointed at the wall. She was probably smiling. “Amazing” she breathed.
“Hum…” Jack looked concerned. “The weapon is still loaded, actually.”
“… Oh.” Cynthia quickly lowered her arm and returned the Tokarev to Jack. “I couldn’t have fired, though; I never pulled a trigger before. Not like I wanted to do it, anyway.”
Awkward silence descended upon them, until Jack said: “… By the way, Miss Walker, tell Colonel I’m waiting for his instructions.”
“Eh? For what?” Cynthia gasped. And then remembered. “Oh, yes, the tea… the tea he’s willing to have with you. The tea.”
“That’s… correct”. Jack took a step back. “That being said, I think I’ll… get back to practice. There are targets I still need to, you know… hit.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll take my leave, then.” Cynthia looked away, embarrassed. “Have a nice day, Mr. Savage.”
“You too” he replied, before returning to the shooting range.
Cynthia watched him for a while; he was tiny and slender, but a strong aura surrounded his figure. It was almost like nothing could make him waver.
‘I want to be like him’ she found herself thinking. ‘I want his strength, his composure, his dedication.’ Because she felt exposed, she had to protect herself; to do so, she yearned to be strong. Because she was weak.
She finally departed from that place, an unpleasant feeling carving into her heart like a knife. Being weak was an illness she could no longer tolerate.
___________________________________
Let’s continue with the repost of my stories!
Finally, a story from Cynthia’s POV. A young Cynthia, to be more exact — she’s about 17-18yo here, which means she’s 10 years younger compared to her apparition in BJ. As you can see, she really admired Jack since then.
For the original link of the story on AO3, go here.
Please remember that this is aoimotion and rem289’s common blog, in which we’ll post all our works made together, past and future!
For more information, check this post:AoiRemArt Inauguration
“It was very kind of you to invite me here, Colonel.” Jack slightly bowed his head, then looked around with discretion. “I have to say you have a nice mansion.”
“Don’t be so formal, my boy.” Gregory Kohle gave him a firm, yet kind smile as he closed the door. “Today you’re here as a guest, so relax and enjoy your stay.”
“Yes sir” Jack said, then he corrected himself: “I mean… yes, thank you for the opportunity.”
“Jack…” the dog sighed, “is this the first you got invited to someone’s house?”
The hare nodded.
“Ok, so here’s a tip: don’t look like you’re inspecting the scene of a crime. It’s kind of… awkward.”
“Oh. Oh.” Jack slightly scratched his neck, now unsure of where he was supposed to look… and how. “I apologize for my rude behavior.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Colonel shook his head, sighing again. “Now, let me show the house” he said, and began to walk.
“With pleasure.” Jack followed him, and the two mammals left the entrance.
“Come to think of it” started the dog, “I never introduced my wife to you.”
“I don’t know her, sir” he confirmed.
“She’s the most beautiful creature in the world” Gregory continued. “My most precious and inestimable treasure.”
“I see” Jack replied. But, to be honest, it was extremely difficult for him to conceive such a deep and strong feeling. However, he knew – by hearsay – that mammals fall in love with each other, and that’s how babies come from. So, his understanding of the matter was, if anything, academically correct.
“Oh, also: there is another mammal that you should meet. However, she…” At that moment, they were close enough to the salon for the voice coming from the inside being audible in the corridor.
Or, more correctly… the voices.
Jack, who was walking behind the colonel, suddenly stopped moving. Gregory noticed it and stopped too. “That voice…” Jack murmured. His ears involuntarily reacted to the sounds coming from the salon and he moved toward them, almost pushed by an invisible force. Behind him, the colonel merely followed him without saying a word.
“… Here” a voice was speaking; one Jack didn’t know. “Here’s the difficult part. Do you want me to play it again?”
“No, I guess I got it” said the other voice – this time, it sounded so familiar to him. So incredibly familiar. Yet, at the same time, incredibly distant. Whose voice was that? Jack stepped forward, but he didn’t enter the salon.
“You know, you can come in.”
“Ah…” Jack sighed and turned to the Colonel. “I’m sorry, I was… huh?” He found himself listening, for the familiar voice had started talking again.
“Well, let’s see…” Those words were followed by the sound of some notes played on the piano. The tune was pretty, but then it stumbled and the voice protested: “Ugh, I played it wrong again.”
“It’s all right, don’t worry.”
“But…”
“Don’t rush, Cynthia. I’m sure that with a little practice you’ll be able to play it in no time.”
‘Cynthia…?’ That name rang a bell in Jack’s head, and he quietly whispered: “She wouldn’t happen to be…?”
“Yup.” Colonel’s big, brown paw gently rested on his shoulder, but the hare still jumped a bit when he felt his touch. “So, you still remember her.”
“… How couldn’t I remember?” Jack asked, after a moment of hesitation. It was really her, then. The vixen he had met in that camp. The vixen he had saved in that camp. A sincere smile slowly appeared on his lips. “She seems to be fine, I’m glad.”
“Why don’t you go and say hello?” The dog asked, nodding to him towards the salon. “C’mon, don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid” Jack replied, promptly. “It’s just… I don’t think she remembers who I am. It’s not like we talked a lot or anything, so…”
“Oh, such pain and sorrow” Gregory claimed, but the laughter that was coming out of his mouth was neither painful nor sorrowful. “Well then, why don’t you stay hidden behind the wall while I go inside and congratulate with Cynthia?”
“Wait—!” Jack tried to reach Gregory’s sleeve, but the dog had already stalked into the salon with two powerful footsteps. He followed Colonel’s movements until his eyes caught a glimpse of a white silhouette and he completely hid behind the wall. ‘But why am I hiding?’ He asked to himself, feeling stupid for some reasons. He then tried to join Gregory, naturally… but his feet were suddenly glued to the floor and he couldn’t take one single step into the room.
Meanwhile, Cynthia was saying: “Oh, were you listening, Gregory? Sorry, the song didn’t come out very… well.”
“Really? It sounded perfect to me. What’s your opinion, Professor Northwood?”
“She was playing just fine, until this point. But it’s okay, it’s a complicated melody, and that passage is pretty tricky.”
“You see? If Cecilia says so…”
“What nonsense” replied Cynthia, dryly. “You shouldn’t never give up just because someone says it’s difficult.”
‘Very well said!’ Jack agreed, delighted, inside his head… and that sudden brain activity reminded him that he was basically eavesdropping a conversation behind a wall for no better-identified reasons, and a sense of deep and distressing discomfort hit him like a speeding train.
“With your current experience, darling, it would be virtually impossible to play this piece with no mistakes” said the gentle voice of Colonel’s wife.
“Hey, I got an idea. If you have difficulties in playing that specific part, why don’t you try to sing it?”
“Sing… it?” Cynthia asked. “But, hum…”
“Gregory could be right. If you try to sing the tricky part, you could get acquainted with the melody itself and play it on the piano more smoothly.”
“I’m not sure this is a good idea, to be honest.” Her voice had become uncertain – now it was very different from the one that just a minute ago had spoken of courage and bravery. “I don’t even know the lyrics…”
“I’ll teach you. Honey, would you please get me the book on my bedside table? The one with the green binding.”
“Of course.” Jack heard Colonel’s steps approaching him and flattened – in vain – against the wall.
When Gregory saw him, he just laughed. “Are you still looking for a good reason to come in, Jack?”
“Well, I…”
“Don’t worry” the dog interrupted him, “you’ll find a valid one very soon.” Then he moved away, humming the motive that Cynthia was playing before.
He came back a little later, holding what looked like a quite old book. The binding was a bit ruined, but it must have been of a beautiful emerald green in the past. Gregory glanced at him and winked, then disappeared into the salon.
“Here it is.”
“Thank you, darling. So, let’s see…” Jack heard the sound of thick paper pages being flipped. “Found it! As for the tricky part…”
“It should be this.”
“Right, good girl. So, I play the part of the right paw, which is the most complicated, and you play the left one as you sing. Is it okay with you?”
“I’m still not convinced…” the fox mumbled, sulking.
“Now, now” Gregory said, “the audience wants to hear you sing!”
“And the audience would be… you two?”
“Who knows.” Gregory laughed, shortly followed by his wife.
“… Whatever.” Cynthia sighed, then said: “Shall we play?”
“Whenever you’re ready.” Cecilia replied.
Cynthia cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and then… she began to sing.
You are not the fool, no
You’re a beautiful one
You’re like the sun
‘Cause this one river flows in you
You are not the no one
You just look for more here
Who does care because you are the one
With it inside…
It was the most beautiful song Jack had ever heard in his life. Not that he had heard so many people singing, but he was positively sure that very few voices could match that beauty.
The melody she was chanting danced inside his ears, leaving a warm sensation, like a kind caress. Jack relaxed and slowly sat on the floor, eyes closed, concentrating all his senses on the vixen’s voice. There were no words that could explain the emotion he was feeling – something between pure bliss and melancholy, something that reminded him of memories of a long time ago. Joyful memories, sad memories, even angry memories. But everything was blended just so perfectly that he couldn’t figure out what kind of feeling was the one ultimately blazing inside his chest. But he didn’t care, because his only desire was to listen to Cynthia’s beautiful voice as long as he could.
Then, the song came to an end. Jack opened his eyes as if he had awakened from a dream and stared at the wall in front of him with an empty expression… that slowly filled up with the only emotion he could feel after listening to Cynthia’s singing: wonderment.
He suddenly got up and, without even indulging in a single change of heart, rushed into the room.
… Well, actually, just the first three steps were fast. Because, when he noticed the look on the three mammals’ faces – each one showing a different emotion – his pace slowed down to the point he eventually stopped… and barely held back the urge to turn around and go on the run.
And so, since he lacked the courage to move on as much as he lacked the courage to run away, he just stayed there, his mind trying to come up with an effective way to start the conversation and his throat shrinking in the meantime; in the end, when he tried to start his unrehearsed speech, the only thing which came out of his lips was a pitiful rattle.
“Oh, Jack, you finally decided to show up!” Gregory laughed and came towards him, perhaps perceiving his temporary disability. The dog put an arm around his thin shoulders and asked: “Cynthia, do you remember him?”
A part of Jack really wanted to scream. Another part questioned that uncool urge and requested a diagnosis on Jack’s brain, but the recesses of his mind didn’t return any positive feedback.
“…” Cynthia, still sitting on the piano stool, stared at him with astonished eyes. “You… you are…” She slowly raised a finger and pointed at herself; then, she pointed at him. “You were… there.”
Jack instantly figured out what she was talking about and nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. I was… there” he repeated, finding no better way to articulate the sentence.
The two looked at each other for a while, until Cynthia blinked, slightly shook his head and… “Wait, were you hiding behind the wall all this time?”
“Huh? N-no, I wasn’t hiding!” Jack replied, realizing on which subject the conversation had just been steered. “I was just, you know… waiting.”
Cynthia looked at him with suspicion. “For what?”
“Well…” Jack scratched his cheek. “For the right moment… I suppose?”
“To…?”
“To…” he coughed, feeling his throat clogged. “… Come and greet you.”
For a moment – a long, looong moment – Jack feared further objections from the vixen. But Cynthia, after giving him a final, penetrating glance from head to toe, just replied “Okay” and turned to the piano again.
Jack looked at her back, confused, then turned his gaze to Cecilia Northwood, who shrugged with a smile. “Jack, would you like something to drink?” she asked.
“A tea… would be perfect” he said, still a little stunned.
“Oh, just like a true-born Englishmammal!” She giggled, then proceeded to leave the salon.
Next to him, Greg gave him a small pat on his shoulder and winked. “It went well, didn’t it?” He whispered.
“I… have my doubts, Colonel.”
“Nah, I think she likes you.”
“What?” Jack raised his head and looked at the dog with horror. “I-In what sense?” He realized he had raised the tone of his voice because Cynthia was glancing at him with questioning eyes. He gave her a half smile, then went back to Gregory: “What… what do you mean?”
The colonel laughed. “Just kidding, my boy. Don’t worry!” He gave him another pat and walked away from him, towards Cynthia. “Why don’t you start going in the living room for the tea? We’ll reach you soon.”
Jack saw him approaching the vixen and murmur something in her ear. At first, she shook her head, but then she dropped her shoulders and started to rise from the stool. At that moment, Jack jumped away, to the living room, with a speed that actually surprised himself.
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I must thank Rem for the concept of this story; it was her who told me: “I want to read the first time Jack heard Cynthia playing the piano!”. “Say no more, girl”. So, that’s how Wordement was born. 💕
Actually, I believe Cycy is not very good at playing the piano, even now during the current events of the BJ timeline. Mostly because she stopped practicing when she entered the GSD. But singing… is definitely a talent of her. Cynthia’s lung capacity is amazing, which surely helps her achieving good results in this field.
Gregory gave a deep sigh as he watched the world outside the window, feeling a fatigue that even thirty hours straight of sleep wouldn’t have been able to relieve. For a moment, he saw the reflection of his eyes on the glass; there was a mortifying sadness in them, one he hadn’t felt in a long time.
A difficult task was waiting for him. Difficult, but most of all… ungrateful.
Then, he heard steps behind him. Light, oddly slow steps. The boy those steps belonged to would’ve never walked that way, under normal circumstances. ‘But these are not normal circumstances for him neither, after all.’
Gregory didn’t wait for him to talk. Instead, he turned to the hare and said: “Jack, my boy. How are you?”
Jack Turner – or Savage, how he had taken to call himself recently, was small; small his stature, small his experience. And his heart? Judging by the concerned look in his eyes… no, that wasn’t small at all. Yet, not large enough to contain the evil inherent in this world. “I… I don’t really know” Jack answered. “I’m not injured, but… I’m not feeling ok neither. I’m sorry I can’t explain my condition properly, I’ve never been good with words, sir.” The hare shook his head, as if he wanted to hunt down some unpleasant thoughts, and asked instead: “The young vixen. The one I’ve saved… no, I’ve found in the camp. How is she?”
“Physically speaking, she suffered no serious injuries.” Gregory opened the folder he was holding under his arm and flipped through the first pages. Even though he had already read the vixen’s name several times, he found himself struck by it again.
Cynthia Walker. Walker… was quite a meaningful surname, in Gregory’s opinion. Walker, the one who walks. Walks despite adversities, uncertainty and pain. That was the message the word conveyed to him. A wonderful message, indeed. But… what was Cynthia’s opinion in this regard? Would she have been motivated to walk the path her life had taken? That was a question nobody could answer. A question which instinctively invoked fear, because of its unfathomable nature.
“Have you already got a hold of her family?” Jack asked.
“You see…” Gregory started, then turned his gaze to the door beyond which Cynthia Walker was, lying in a hospital bed as comfortable as useless. No litter, as warm and soft as it could be, would have been able to prepare the vixen for the raw truth that was waiting to be revealed to her. “Sadly, it looks like Cynthia Walker has no longer a family to come back to.”
Jack’s eyes widened. “What does that mean, sir? Are they…”
“Dead? No, I don’t think her parents are dead. They just… well, disappeared.”
“Do you mean you can’t contact them?”
“According to our investigation, Cynthia’s parents moved four years ago, and nobody knows where they headed” Gregory explained. “So, at present, Cynthia is orphaned as a result of the disappearance of her household. In other words, the poor creature you brought to us, Jack, doesn’t have a home anymore.”
The hare made a discomforted expression. “That’s terrible” he murmured, then turned to Cynthia’s room and asked, “What will happen to her, then?”
“In cases, such as this, you usually try to put them in an orphanage. However – and now I’m going back to what I was previously saying – although Cynthia’s physical condition is stable, the same cannot be said about her psyche.” Gregory closed the folder and frowned, then added: “If she could have got back to her family, perhaps the situation would have been under control. But this way… it’ll be traumatic for her.” He could already imagine the consequences that a placement to an orphanage would have caused, and his heart ached.
“Aren’t there other alternatives?”
“Finding a family who is willing to take care of her, for example” replied the dog, “in other words, adoption. But even this solution involves risks, not to mention the difficulties in carrying it out quickly.”
Jack wrinkled his nose, obviously intent on some profound elucubration – which was probably something he wasn’t used to do, judging by the painful way he was clenching his jaw.
Gregory kindly laughed at that extreme concentration. “You know, I wonder why I’m telling you these details. After all, you have no right nor permission to know them.” The dog leaned a paw on Jack’s little shoulder and, looking straight into his eyes, inquired: “Do you know why, Jack?”
The hare didn’t seem intimidated by that vis-a-vis. ‘He’s got guts’, Gregory had to admit. ‘I like this kid.’ Jack lowered his eyelids for a moment, then shook his head. “No, sir” he honestly admitted, “I don’t know.”
“Of course you don’t” Gregory agreed, before moving away from him. Jack Turner was nothing, technically speaking. But that night, in that camp, something important had happened; a bond was born, that important bond that is formed between the savior and the one who is saved. Gregory respected that bond. Therefore, in his eyes, Jack had the special privilege to know every detail of Cynthia Walker’s situation, the first creature he had ever placed – consciously or not – under his wing.
… Obviously enough, it was clear as day that not only such a talk wouldn’t have penetrated Jack’s skull – skull which, for the sake of truth, seemed extremely thick – but also, there was a risk that it would have blew his head apart. “Listen, Jack.” Gregory finally spoke; his voice became deeper, and this time the little herbivore showed an even so slight hint of submission. “What I told you about Cynthia’s situation… has to be a secret between me and you. If I found out you intentionally or accidentally divulged them… you can already imagine what would happen in that case, can’t you?”
“… You would prevent me from officially enlisting in the GSD, right”?
“Precisely, my boy. So, you’ll hold your tongue tight.” It wasn’t even a question, but an order. The first order Gregory gave Jack Turner who, in the future, would’ve became one of his best agents. “Understood?”
Jack nodded. There was no hesitation in him, as if he was ready to do so from the very beginning. After all, the mere fact Jack was here meant that he was willing to do this and more; such a light order was nothing but the first step to climb in order to achieve his objective. A trifle not worth wasting even a split second to think about it.
Jack Turner was there because he wanted to become a GSD agent. His belief was as solid as a rock, and Gregory was certain it would have taken him far. Farther than anyone else. ‘Only death could make this guy desist. Death… or love’ the dog thought. Then, a sincere laughter left his mouth. “Very good!” he said, and the heavy atmosphere was swept away in a moment. “I really like you, Jack. I can’t wait to have you among my agents. You’ll have to work extra hard, you know that, don’t you?”
And, for the first time since the day he had met Jack, Gregory saw him smile. “I know that, sir. I can’t wait either” he replied. And in those words, was the very essence of the creature known by the name of Jack Turner… or rather, Jack Savage.
Gregory smiled too. Perhaps, that nickname suited Jack than he had thought, after all.
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The little story you just read happens right after Promise and describes Cynthia’s situation on the family front. Also, it shows a young Jack Savage (Turner!) after his first, unofficial mission. Not exactly the keen&cool Agent Savage we’re used to see.
I could tell, because the air was filled with a strange vibrancy. Because, as the world around us was screaming, her amber eyes were just fixed on me as if I was the only living thing left on this planet.
Her fur was as spiky as the pine needles, her body tense as if she was about to jump on me, or jump away from me. She probably didn’t know herself what she was supposed to do.
Neither I did, to be honest.
Before I even realized, I was on my knees, one paw still on my gun and the other outstretched toward her trembling body. When she saw me doing that, she growled a bit. I should have been scared, because I was a hare and she was a vixen… yet, I wasn’t.
My mind was full of questions: “Who are you?”, “Are you okay?” were the more important, the more compelling, but even them couldn’t come out from my mouth. I was speechless.
That’s why I smiled; reached again her slender figure with my paw and smiled, as if it was the only thing which could connect the two of us. I’ve never been used to smile, but that’s exactly what I did. At least, what I tried to do.
And then, just then, she spoke with a low, uncertain voice. “Are you my enemy?”
“I’m not” I replied. “What about you?”
“…” The vixen, who had been on all fours up until that moment, got up on her hind legs and stared at me. She was about my height, but since she was furrier than me, she looked bigger. Nonetheless… she was so small, in a way I couldn’t put into words. “Why should I?” she asked, eventually.
And that was it. That was everything I needed to know.
“You’re right” I said, with a smile – but this time, it was bitter and self-conscious. “Come with me; I’ll take you away from this place.”
My words were pretentious; back then, I was only vaguely aware of this fact. Yet, the strength I felt growing inside of me, the resolve which was running through my veins, the simple desire to do the right thing at the right moment… all of these feelings converged into one, single emotion, and in a blink of an eye my gun had flew away, and both my arms were stretched in front of her. “Come with me”, I repeated.
It wasn’t an order, but it wasn’t an invitation either.
It was a promise.
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This is a very important moment in the BJ timeline, as it describes Jack and Cynthia’s first meeting, in not-so-easy circumstances for both of them. I wish I was confident enough to write more… maybe I will, when the sequel will be released. I hope so. 🤷
Hawthorne cackled. “Of few words as usual, aren’t we? But I bet you’ve got something to say, it’s written all over your cute face.”
“You’re wrong”, Jack replied, feeling his throat suddenly constricted. “It’s just that class is about to start, and… I should get going now”. But in spite of what he had just said, the hare didn’t take a single step – and he couldn’t tell if the force which was keeping him in place was foolish courage or stark terror.
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I finally managed to write something from Jack’s POV. To be more exact, 15yo Jack Savage… I mean, Turner. Hope you’ll enjoy it.
As usual, art by @rem289! Look at him, he’s so cute colored ;___;
It was the most beautiful song Jack had ever heard in his life. Not that he had heard so many people singing, but he was positively sure that very few voices could match that beauty.
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So, one day, the woman known as Rem suggested me a certain scenario. Today, I finally brought this scenario into life. Hope you’ll like it.
(Note 1: before reading this story, you should read Promise)
(Note 2: here, Jack is about 17/18 yo and Cynthia 16/17 yo)
(Note 3: I’m trash)
“You could never imagine what I want to do with you. Even here and now, I’m just…”
“Okay, I don’t want to talk with you anymore.” Cecilia turned her back to him and covered her ears. Then, Gregory appeared in front of her and smiled like he was the happiest mammal on heart. “Don’t look at me like that” she grumped.
“Can I at least kiss you?”
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Nothing to say here, just a little fanfiction about Gregory and his bride-to-be Cecilia. It’s settled about 20-25 years before the events narrated in Black Jack. Hope you’ll like it! As usual, credits to @rem289 for the beautiful sketch!
